


Something Borrowed

by rchginger



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 21:19:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rchginger/pseuds/rchginger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Dc-Everafter challenge</p><p>Summary: Dean and Castiel have been friends since Dean spilled iced coffee down Castiel's shirt during freshman year. Now Dean's getting married to Castiel's sister Anna and that wouldn't be so bad if Castiel wasn't completely in love with him. After one humiliating drunken night Castiel wakes up in bed with Dean....naked. Now his complicated life is becoming more complicated and he has to make a choice between the love of his sister and having the one he's wanted forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Borrowed

**Author's Note:**

> Author notes: Not beta’d, so sorry, RL was hectic what with me starting a new job and to be honest I forgot about needing to get it to my beta so….that being said I will have it looked over and post a beta’d version as soon as I’m able, hopefully it’s not too terrible.  
> The lovely and extremely talented asteraoth was my artist for this challenge and though I have yet to see the finish project I have no doubt it will be AMAZING, so make sure to go and give her some love. http://asteraoth.livejournal.com/10156.html

Something Borrowed

A DC-Everafter fanfiction by Rchginger  
Claim: Something Borrowed  
Genre: AU  
Paring(s): Dean/Castiel, mentions of Dean/Anna, past Castiel/Balthazar (non-related), and illusions to Gabriel/Castiel (non-related), and Sam/Jess as a background/secondary pairing.  
Rating: R for naughty language  
Word Count:  
Warnings: Infidelity, m/m kissing and illusions to sex (though if you’re reading this at all neither of those things should come as a surprise.)  
Summary: Dean and Castiel have been friends since Dean spilled iced coffee down Castiel's shirt during freshman year. Now Dean's getting married to Castiel's sister Anna and that wouldn't be so bad if Castiel wasn't completely in love with him. After one humiliating drunken night Castiel wakes up in bed with Dean....naked. Now his complicated life is becoming more complicated and he has to make a choice between the love of his sister and having the one he's wanted forever.  
Author notes: Not beta’d, so sorry, RL was hectic what with me starting a new job and to be honest I forgot about needing to get it to my beta so….that being said I will have it looked over and post a beta’d version as soon as I’m able, hopefully it’s not too terrible.  
The lovely and extremely talented asteraoth was my artist for this challenge and though I have yet to see the finish project I have no doubt it will be AMAZING, so make sure to go and give her some love. 

 

 

 

Prologue

It was mostly his fault – he’s adult enough to admit it, even if it’s only in his own head. 

He’d been running late – a combination of lack of sleep, early morning, and no coffee resulting in Castiel being little more than a zombie as he fought his way into a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, and a ratty set of Puma’s before he stumbled out of his dorm only to have to backtrack and return for his laptop and messenger bag. By the time he reached the fourth floor of the art building he was fifteen minutes late to his first class of the semester which just so happened to be proctored by the hardest tenured professor at the University of Washington. Professor Vince Stael was the reason the word hard-ass was created. The thought of sitting in a room with the professor glaring like a drill sergeant for forty-five minutes made Castiel’s left eye twitch. 

The plan had been to sneak in quietly through the back door and slip into a seat in the far row and hope that Stael didn’t skin him alive. (The plan went to hell in a flaming hand basket the moment he met Dean Winchester.)

Like he said, it was mostly his fault – though the other man was far from guilt free. 

He hadn’t heard the other man’s approach, nor did he notice the arm that reached out to hold the door open – so the tap on his shoulder had been unexpected and Castiel jumped two feet in the air at the touch of a warm hand on his shoulder and turned sharply, his messenger bag swinging in a wild, arch through the air and starting the COFFEE INCIDENT.

His bag hit the other man in the arm and jostled the bundle of text books the guy was holding. It was reflex after that. The text books fell and Castiel moved to catch them at the same time that the other man did the same thing, unfortunately when the man moved he lost a hold of his Styrofoam coffee cup and the milky, brown liquid splashed across the front of Castiel’s sweatshirt. The caffeinated liquid snaked its way in tiny rivulets down the collar of his sweater and dripped down the waist of his jeans creating a wet, sticky mess that caused the top of his boxers to stick to his hips. 

He was just thankful that it was an ice-coffee and not a scolding hot latte – otherwise things would have been a lot more painful for him. 

If the ruckus hadn’t drawn the attention of those in the lecture hall then the loud shout that escaped Castiel without his full consistent certainly did the job. When he sheepishly lifted his head and glanced towards the front of the room it was to the sight of everyone staring openly at them and Professor Stael glaring at them with unconcealed hatred as though they had just spat upon the Mona Lisa.

“Um,” Castiel said, words abandoning him to his embarrassment. 

“Gentlemen, if you are finished with your stupidity, please take a seat; you’ve held my class up for long enough.” 

“Ah,” Castiel hurriedly bent down and retrieved his fallen messenger bag and nearly tripped over his own feet as he made his way to a seat in the closes row as fast as he possibly could without actually running. 

The owner of the coffee that Castiel was now covered in took a seat next to him, offering him a small smile. 

“I’m sorry dude, I-” the man whispered as he cracked open his text book – Kenneth Frampton’s Studies in Tectonic Culture – and bent over to pull a notebook out of a black backpack that Castiel hadn’t noticed. 

Castiel glanced towards the front of the room where Professor Stael shot him an ugly look and two blond’s three rows up giggled and whispered to each other while throwing him glances. 

He waved off the apology. 

“What’s a little spilled…coffee? Just glade you went with,” he paused and took a lick at the inside of his wrist, licking at the sticky patch of coffee that had dried there. “…a frappuccino?” he didn’t mean to sound as incredulous as he did.

“What? You got a problem,” the man started defensively.

“No, no, you just seem more of the black coffee with maybe a teaspoon of sugar type of guy that’s all.”

“Hmm,” the man grunted. “Why’d you say that?”

Castiel shrugged. 

“Castiel,”

“What?”

“My name, it’s Castiel.”

The man looked at him sideways before smiling.

‘Dean.”

“I’d say it was nice to meet you, if it hadn’t just taken a shower in your frappuccino.”

“Aw, it’s good for your skin.” 

“Really?”

“Yup, you should be thanking me.”

“No, I don’t think so.” 

“Gentlemen,” Professor Stael paused in his lecture on the structure and construction of modern architecture and the space and abstract form of it. “If I am boring  
you to the point were you are choosing to interrupt my class you are free to leave, and never come back if you do so.” 

Both Dean and Castiel shook their heads. 

“Mr.,” Stael glanced down a sheet of paper before returning his gaze back to Castiel. “Westbrook, can you address Frampton’s views of structural engineering and the tectonic imagination that have taken place in works of architecture, name the specific works that he was listed in the text and how they show both constructional form and material character? If you were paying attention, you should have no problem answering.”

Castiel groaned and slouched in his seat as every head swiveled towards him and tried to muddle his way to an answer and prayed time went by quickly. 

An hour later Castiel was still stinging from the ringer Stael had put him through, somehow putting the blame for the early disruption of the class entirely on Castiel. He was in the library, bundled in a shirt two sizes to big and smelling of old spice and sitting across from Dean who was failing miserably at projecting understanding over Castiel’s grumbling about their demon of a professor. It would help if he could stop laughing. 

“I hate you.” Castiel said, forcibly dragging his book across the wood table surface towards him and away from Dean. 

“Then I guess that makes us friends.”  
……………………………..  


Age is only a number; until that number gains a three in front of it, then it becomes something you dread. When Castiel was in fifth grade his sister Anna found a calendar in the back of the yellow pages, where you could look up any date in the future. She had looked up his 30th birthday, which fell on a Sunday. At the time he had lamented the fact while Anna had made a snarky comment about how it wouldn’t matter because he’d be too old to really celebrate anyway – while at the same time rubbing his nose that her 29th birthday would land on a Friday. Castiel hadn’t thought that he’d be too old – he’d be a successful Art Historian or maybe even own a gallery. He’d be married with a kid on the way – or maybe just married and thinking about adoption. Then again his parent’s never seemed to celebrate their birthdays and he never saw them exchange presents except stupid clothing items and the one time mom had bough dad a new watch after he broke his. 

After that he gave little thought to it until his 25th birthday that had started off with him getting dumped by his boyfriend of six months. Balthazar. British, cute, and plagued with the same religious name affliction. He was one of Seattle’s top divorce lawyers and had taken the time to actually woo him. Castiel wondered if he had taken the same time to woo the new bimbo he had left him for. 

And ended with his nose in a mug of Guinness and a plate of hot wings cooling by his elbow. 

“He was never good enough for you anyway.” Dean said, shifting minutely to take on of the wings, the movement causing his bare arm to brush against Castiel’s. 

“Yes. Sexy, rich, British, all bad things,” 

“An ass, an ass, and….an ass. Besides the accent was annoying.” 

Castiel snorted. “You don’t like anyone.” 

Dean shrugged. “I like you.” 

It wasn’t until he had got home, Dean waiting below in the cab until Castiel had flipped on his lights and waved him off, that the horrible thought of only having five years to go before the big 3-0 had entered his mind. It had been a depressing thought. He blamed the tequila shots Dean had forced – handed- on him. 

Now, today, one day before that Sunday that Anna had predict with the help of that damned phone book, the fact that he was now thirty (or would be in less than an hour) was a fact that he couldn’t escape. He was turning the page, entering a new chapter and closing one that he wouldn’t be able to open again. The feelings he had reminded him of New Years – leaving him reminiscing about years the left at way side. But where he had welcomed the past New Year he was dreading the approach of Sunday, watching the clock over the bar tick-away too fast for his liking. He wanted time to drag its feet, maybe even stop altogether. 

Where was a TARDIS when you needed one? That last thought was mostly the tequila – he should really move away from Gabriel before he was too drunk to stand. 

He doesn’t. Instead he throws back the shot that Gabriel pushes towards him and sucks on a lime as he casts his eyes around the room. Anna was in the center of the crowd, crimson tendrils piled artistically atop her head and draped in an emerald all over sequin, one shoulder cocktail dress that she had bought just for the occasion. Castiel has no doubt that the reason Anna had offered to throw him the party was so that she would have the opportunity to buy a new gown and show off, not that he doubted that she really did care for him, but Anna has never been one to think about others over herself. 

He groans and grabs his beer bottle as Anna proceeded to hop up onto a table, teetering unsteadily on neck-breaking, high heels, nearly flashing the bar as she did so. 

“May I have your attention?” Anna called out, tapping her champagne glass with her fork. 

“Oh look,” Gabriel said, turning to face forward a tequila sunrise nestled between his palms. “Dear baby sister is taking it upon herself to be the star of the evening.” 

“Hush Gabriel. Anna’s only being Anna.” 

“You mean a spotlight- hugging harlot?” Gabriel said, “I mean why would she ever think that your birthday party would be about – I don’t know, you? Oh I know, because you let her-”

“Gabriel,” 

“I’m just saying. I love Anna, she’s your sister so I’m kind of obligated with being your only friend and all,” Castiel opened his mouth to reply to that but Gabriel forged ahead. “, but that doesn’t mean I won’t point out what a vain, spotlight hoarding bitch she is.” 

“Takes one to know one right?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Guilty as charged. I never said otherwise, but I have a little more decency than to steal the show at your party. Unlike shameless McShameless over there.” 

Anna was wrapping up her speech, tossing in a story that had nothing to do with him what so ever and featured Anna in full glorious detail. 

“Too my big brother.” Anna said with a thrust of her glass. “I’m so glad I’ve got another year to go before I reach the big 3-0 of old age.” 

She’s helped down from the table and stumbles her way over to where he sits. 

“Awe, why such a frown-y face?” Anna asked. She plunked Gabriel’s Tequila Sunrise from the bar. Gabriel tried, and ultimately failed, to wrestle the drink away from her – the short struggle that ensued caused some of the drink to splash over the side of the glass. .

Victorious, Anna took a seat on the barstool next to Castiel’s and peered at him with wide green eyes. It took him a moment to realize she was waiting from him to answer. 

“Wait until your thirtieth and then ask me.” 

Anna only laughed. 

The SITUATION – as he had taken to calling it, capitals mandatory, and mostly in his own head – was made all the more dismal by her. It wasn’t Anna’s fault, not really. Just promoted to a glamorous PR job and freshly engaged Anna was on top of the world. As much as Castiel loved his gallery he sometimes found himself envying her – her fiancé being the main source of the sour feeling. Dean. Dean who had spilt coffee down his shirt when they first met. His best friend Dean. Dean with whom Castiel was in love with. 

As though conjured by Castiel’s thoughts, Dean was suddenly there, leaning against the bar with his arms bracketing Anna. He took a moment to send a smile Castiel’s way before leaning down and to kiss Anna. Castiel turned away with the pretence of waving down the bartender. 

Dean and Anna was an exquisite couple – both beautiful in a way that drew your attention to them immediately. Anna with her fiery red-hair and lean frame that curved in the needed places and Dean – smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose, dirty blond hair artistically arranged in a spiky mess that was the result of  
Dean being unable to successfully use a brush and not the time consuming efforts of a beautician. Both with green eyes that gleamed like emeralds with mischief more times than not. They were among Seattle’s most beautiful and respected. The couple was registered at Nordstrom for fine cutlery and appliances that Anna would never dream of touching but Dean would probably use on a daily basis, and Bloomingdale for expensive crystal and china that would either be a hit or miss with the bride and go unnoticed by the groom. 

“Happy birthday Cas.” Dean said his voice rough with sleep. The dress-shirt he wore was crinkled in places and Castiel had not doubt that Dean had probably fallen asleep over a spread of blue-prints at his desk. The shirt was a soft moss green and the light played over the material, pulling out hidden flecks of gold and drawing attention to Dean’s wide eyes, framed by his girly-long lashes. 

The thought made Castiel smile as the small Dean voice in his head replied grumpily to girly’ comment. Castiel had spent most of the first few months he had known Dean teasing him about his long, curly lashes so he had a good idea what Dean’s responds would be. 

“Thank you.” He replied, meeting Dean’s eyes briefly before hastily pulling his away.

“I think it’s time that I take the party planner here home.” He rested his chin on Anna’s shoulder and toyed with a strain of her hair. “What do you think?”

“I don’t wanna go yet.” 

“Yeah, but if I don’t take you home now you’ll likely kill me from the hangover you’ll get if you drink anymore.” 

“But I don’t wanna.” Anna said with a pout. “Tell him I don’t have to Cas,” 

Castiel shot Dean a glance before resting his forehead on Anna’s. 

“I’ll call you in the morning squish.” He placed a kiss to her cheek and smiled as she put up a weak protest but allowed herself to be dragged away by Dean who threw a ‘Buy Cas” over his shoulder as he herded Anna towards the door.  
…………………………………………….  
Only thirty-minutes had passed before Dean is back, standing in the door of the bar, scratching his head and looking around confused. There were only a dozen or so people milling around while Journey played on an old-fashion juke box that was tucked away in the far corner adjunct to the bar. Castiel caught sight of him and stood – or more accurately Gabriel punched him in the arm and pointed towards and the door and Castiel stumbled on his wobbly legs, only tripping on the legs of his chair once and made his was towards the Dean. 

“Hey,” he said, smiling a little too wide – the result of a little too much to drink – as he came to a stop beside Dean. “What are you doing back here?” 

“Oh, ah, Anna left her purse her. The, uh, channel on.”

“You mean her Chanel bag. Her two-thousand dollar Chanel bag?” 

“Yeah, she’s pretty sure it’s here somewhere. Then again she was mostly talking the lamp and a breath away from passing out, so take her words as you will.” 

Anna was a light weight, one glass of Champaign had her stumbling and Castiel knew she had downed more than one glass tonight. He should have been watching her, he knew, but being Anna’s handler was more than a choir and one he hadn’t wanted to take on while lamenting the end of his youth. 

“She okay?” 

Dean nodded, 

“She’ll have one hell of a hangover in the morning, but other than that she’ll live.” 

Good. 

“Come on, I’ll help you find the purse.” 

After five minutes of searching, Castiel found it in the woman’s bathroom hanging over the door of a stall. Becky, the bubbly, too cheerful for her own good blond that Gabriel had been dodging all night had only smiled out him when she entered the dimly lit room that smelled pleasantly of lavender and roses instead of the pungent stench of piss that perfumed the air in the men’s room, and found him there. Apparently being bi made him safe – like a declawed, wet kitten. 

When exited the bathroom, purse in hand, he found Dean at the table with a tumbler of amber colored whiskey that was no doubt bourbon of the top-shelf quality. Gabriel had crowded close, but Dean was making a valiant attempt at ignoring him. Dean didn’t really like Gabriel, mostly because Gabriel made it hard for him to be liked by people who had more sense than Castiel. 

Castiel made his way to the table, stopping at the bar to retrieve a new beer. He placed the beer on the table-top and dropped the little green handbag in Dean’s lap. 

“Found it.”

“Great, thanks Cas.” The corners of Dean’s lips curved upward in a sheepish smile. “She’ll be difficult enough to deal with tomorrow without being angry about losing her purse.” 

They lapsed into silence, Gabriel picking up the slack and rattling on about something or other. Castiel was too busy absorbing the warmth where Dean’s thigh was pressed against his. His cock gave an interesting twitch when the toe of Dean’s loafer brushed against the heel of his shoe – it was then that he knew it was time for him to pack it in for the night. His crush on Dean was old and comfortable, like an ancient blanket that had been present on his bed forever, it was something he was use to, and something he could usually ignore – the intake of alcohol making it difficult to remember why telling Dean how he felt was a bad thing. 

“Last call,” The bartender called out, “You don’t have to go home, but you’ve got to get the hell up out of here.” 

They finished off their drinks, the few associates from the gallery who had lingered around saying their good buys and wishing Castiel a happy birthday before wandering off. Castiel, Dean, and Gabriel shrugged on their coats and made their way out to the sidewalk where Gabriel waved down a cab. 

“Come one Cassie; let’s get you home before you turned into a pumpkin.” Gabriel said when a cab came to rest at the curb.

Castiel glared at the name but started towards the cab, pausing at the sound of Dean’s voice.

“Hey Cas, uh, you wanna get one more drink?” Dean looked away and shrugged. “I feel kind of bad showing up to my best friend’s party late and all.” 

Castiel glanced at Gabriel who was watching them with a raised eyebrow. 

“Oh, don’t let me stop you.” Gabriel said, opening the door as the cabbie became impatient and beeped the horn. 

“Okay, why not.”

“You kids have fun,” Gabriel said as he started to get into the cab, “No talking to strangers, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

“There are things you wouldn’t do? Like what?” Castiel shot at him and Gabriel flipped him the bird as he pulled the door shut and the cab drove away. 

“Come on,” Dean said, taking Castiel’s elbow and steering him down the street. “Let’s go get you properly drunk?”

“I’m not properly drunk already?”

“Not if you can say properly without slurring your not.” 

Castiel saw the logic in that and allowed Dean to drag him down the street to the first bar they came across. The Library. Castiel smiled, a little sad and bitter, when he saw the sign, remembering the first time he and Dean had patron the bar.  
…………………………

Nine years earlier  
A bar filled with dusty old books was Castiel’s type of watering hole. He wondered how Dean had known about it, while Castiel the geeky-bookworm hadn’t known of its existence. He figured the fact that he’d only been able to drink legally for a handful months now and Dean had been legal for a full year probably had something to do with it. Castiel, as Dean always said, was too much of a goody-two shoe to ever consider using a fake I.D. 

“Wow,” Castiel said as Dean returned with a pitcher of beer and two glasses. 

“Thought you would like it.” Dean said as he slid onto the bench seat. 

“Yeah. Liquor and books, what’s not to like.” 

“You’re such a nerd, Cas.” 

Castiel shrugged. 

“I’ve never claimed to be anything else.” 

They were fifteen minutes, a plate of wings, and two glasses of beer (for Castiel, three for Dean), into whatever this was when Castiel began to wonder just exactly what this was. Dean had said it was a study session; expect neither of them had even made a move to open their backpacks. The atmosphere warm and relax, the lazy music playing and dim light making it just a tad romantic and Castiel could swear that every so often Dean would throw him these looks like…..so yeah, he didn’t know what was happening. 

Dean was straight, Castiel was sure; at least Dean had never given Castiel cause to doubt that he liked anything other than people with womanly bits. Not that Castiel asked, because Castiel wasn’t quite sure how you came out and asked someone if they also favored the boy bits two without sounding rude and/or creepy. So Dean was straight. And Castiel had a crush on him. And they were on a date, maybe. 

During his whirlwind of thoughts Castiel hadn’t noticed the woman who entered, nor when she approached the table. It wasn’t until she was sliding onto the bench seat next to Dean that Castiel noticed her. Anna. He known he had made a mistake when he had told her where he was going. He loved his sister but he wanted to be alone with Dean and didn’t need Anna pushing her cleavage, which was clearly visible in the low-cut t-shirt she was wearing, into Dean’s face. 

But he smiled pleasantly and kept the bitterness out his voice – barely. 

“Anna, what are you doing here?”

Anna shrugged. 

“Was in the area. So, go on, introduce us.” Anna said, angling herself towards Dean and brushing up against his arm as she did so. 

“Anna, this is Dean. Dean this is Anna, my sister.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Dean said, he was putting up an effort to try to be gentlemanly and keep his eyes off Anna’s breast, but the red head was making it difficult with  
the way she arched and Castiel wasn’t surprised when Dean’s eyes finally fell to the round mounds. 

Castiel had never disliked his sister as much as he did at that moment. 

“Castiel never said you were hot.”

Dean blushed and Anna chuckled. 

“Aw, that’s cute. Blushing, like you don’t know you make woman want to drop their panties by just looking at them.” 

The obvious flirting continued and Castiel left to go to the bathroom and try to reign himself in before he strangled his little sister. When he returned, Anna was sucking provocatively on a straw that stood in a pink, frozen margarita. 

“So,” she said, “Is this a date?”

Like she cared’ Castiel thought. 

“No,” Dean said. He was blushing again. 

“And why not? Don’t you find my baby bro attractive?”

“That’s not,”

“Or is he not good enough for you?”

“Anna!” Castiel hissed. 

“No. Of course not. I mean yes….I,” 

“So ask him on a date.”

“Anna stop.” 

Anna blinked at him, her innocence false in the face of his ire. 

“Dean and I are just friends, besides he’s,” Castiel never got a chance to finish because Anna took his declaration of friendship and ran with it – like a wide receiver  
going to the in zone to receive what was most definitely going to turn into a touchdown. And he had turned over the ball. 

“Okay then,” she said, cutting him off, “ask me on a date.” 

Dean looked stunned, and then looked at Castiel. 

“What,”

“Oh come on, I’m hot and you know it, and you’re hot, so ask me out on a date.”

“Um,” 

Castiel couldn’t stand this anymore. He gave a flimsy excuse about why he had to leave and nearly ran from the bar. He refused to think about what had happened. Because the thought of his sister dating the man he was pretty sure he was in love with was just too unbearable. He had known he could never be with Dean. Known that as his friend, his best friend- that he would eventually have to stand by and watch as Dean fell in love and got married and had a family with someone who was not him. But for it to be Anna, 

“Cas!” 

He almost ignored the shout of his name, the voice unmistakable belonging to Dean. But he couldn’t do that. Dean hadn’t done anything wrong after all. 

He wiped hurriedly at his face in case the tears he could feel pricking his eyes had leaked out. 

“Yeah?” He turned, smiling and mostly succeeding. 

“Are – is everything okay? You left in a hurry.” Dean asked, looking worried and….something else Castiel couldn’t identify. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” 

“I-” Dean paused and cleared his throat. “So do you think that I should?”

“Pardon?”

“Ask Anna out? Do you think I should?”

Oh god.

“I-” It was Castiel’s turn to pause. “I think that you two could be good together.” 

Dean’s shoulders slumped and for a second – one single, split second – Castiel thought he saw disappointment, as though – 

“Okay, I will.” Dean said. “Do you – ah, should I see you home? I did invite you after all.”

“Dean, I’m not a child. I can find my own way home.” 

Dean nodded. 

“Okay. Have a goodnight Cas.”

“You two Dean.” 

Castiel turned before he could see Dean heading back to the bar. Back to Anna. 

Love was such a bitch, Castiel decided, and needed to be put down.  
…………………………  
Now

He knows that he’s had too much. Knows that he should go catch himself a cab home to sleep it off. But he’s warm and relaxed and trails his fingers over the neck of his empty beer bottle as he watches Dean stride over to the bar, smiling at the blond squeezed into a white tank top that has ‘Fallen Angel’ stretched across her breast. Dean says something to her that makes her shake her head and bite her lip as she smiles in way that is obviously seductive.

From the corner of his eye Castiel can see Fallen Angel turn on her bar stool and survey Dean, absorbing him in his full glory – spiked hair tussled in just the right way, full lips. Anna had once complained that Dean garners more stares and double takes than she does. Yet, unlike his female counterpart, Dean seems not to notice the attention. Fallen Angel now casts her eyes towards Castiel, likely wondering what Dean was doing there with someone as average as he was. He wonders whether she thinks they’re just friends. He hopes she thinks they’re a couple. 

Dean nods, and takes the beers the bartender puts in front of him before turning and heading back to there table and placing a cool Heineken in front of Castiel and he takes it in hand and downs half in one go as Dean resumes his seat. 

“She’s wondering what your doing here with me? Why you would chose to come back over here, instead of taking in all her obviously displayed assets.” Castiel said – the woman looks their way again, throws them a bitter and put out look before turning to face forward and picking up her glass. 

“What?” Dean asked, looking over his shoulder at the woman as though he had no idea what Castiel was talking about. 

Castiel snorted as he picked up his beer and placed it to his lips. 

“You have no idea do you? You really don’t notice they way women look at you.” Which is equal parts surprising and not to Castiel because Dean has never seemed to notice the way women all turn towards him, pushing out their chest and fluffing their hair like hens trying their damndest to gain the roosters attention. 

“You’re funny.” Dean said. 

“I’m not that funny.”

“No, you are, but you were funnier in college.” 

“Like you noticed.”

“Cas, you were the only thing I noticed back then. My only damn friend for nearly two years when I first got out here.”

“Huh,” Castiel grunts.

Dean’s smiles around the mouth of his own beer – wide and real, a sight rarely seen now a day with the wedding growing closer. He doesn’t doubt that Dean loves Anna but he knows that she can be a bit, well demanding on good days and down right bitchy on bad ones. The fact that it’s him that has Dean looking happier than he had all night makes warmth swirl wildly in his belly, like a bundle of kittens had been unleashed in side of him. 

He knows he’s had too much and all that beer has loosened his tongue until he is helpless to stop what he knows is coming. 

“I had the biggest crush on you,” Castiel said, “Oh, shit,” follows a second later. 

“What?” Dean asked, blinking rapidly as silence grew between them and was kept from growing oppressive by the bustling sounds of the bar. A shrieking laugh from  
two tables over seems to break Dean out of his stupor. “No you didn’t.” 

Castiel pauses, unsure at first but then figures he’s come this far. 

“’Course I did.” He shrugs, washes away his sudden dry mouth with beer. 

“You never said anything.” 

“It’s one thing to have a bi-curious friend and another to have him curious about you.” 

The night kind of comes to an end at that point, which is fine really because it’s last call and quickly approaching four o’clock. They catch a cab ‘two stops please’ because they live on opposite sides of Seattle Center, Dean in Queen Ann and Castiel in Pioneer Square. 

They sit in silence, the light sounds of traffic providing background noise, for nearly ten blocks, maybe more but Castiel’s not sure as he’s too busy looking out the window and the one time he looks over to Dean he sees the other man doing the same. The cab screeches to a stop, the cabbie yelling profanities at the driver in front of them but neither Dean nor Castiel is paying much attention because Castiel has some how ended up in Dean’s lap and in the span of a breath they are kissing. The gentle, wet sound of their mouths meeting filling the backseat. At some point Dean must have told the cabbie that they would only need one stop after all because soon Dean is shuffling Castiel out of the cab and throwing bills at the driver while telling him to keep the change. 

There’s more kissing on the sidewalk and on the elevator up to the penthouse that had been an impulsive buy for Castiel but ultimately a great decision. Dean presses Castiel up against the elevator wall and spent the ride learning the taste of Castiel’s mouth with his tongue while Castiel was unable to do anything other than make little noises that would have been embarrassing to him if he had been able to make himself care, and tug at the spiky blond strains of hair. 

The doors open with a ‘ding’ and they stumble clumsily down the hall to Castiel’s door where he fumbles with fingers that feel like sausages and shake, making it difficult to get the key in the lock. Dean trailing his lips down his neck and nipping at the back of his neck doesn’t help much either. When the door opens Castiel drops the keys in the entry way, aiming for the bowl on a table end by the door but missing and not caring as he and Dean fight their way out of their clothes and make their way to the bedroom, bumping into the sofa and knocking over a couple of chairs on the way to his perfectly made bed. 

Dean’s has his hands down Castiel’s boxers when he pulls his mouth away and for one horrifying second Castiel is sure that he will stop and this will be the end of their friendship. 

“Are you drunk?” 

It’s not what Castiel had been expecting so it takes him a moment to answer. 

“No.” He said; because that’s what you say when you’re drunk and a hot guy has his hand down your pants.

Then Dean’s moving over him and their boxers are flying over the edge of the bed and everything gets intense and heated and just like that he’s having sex with his sister’s fiancé. 

…………………………..  
He has a minor heart attack when he wakes to the sight of Dean smiling at him and the sound of Anna’s voice. For a moment he’s disoriented and then everything comes back and Anna is yelling for him to pick up the phone and Castiel is falling from the bed while attempting to keep covered. When he looks up Dean is pulling on his pants and looking around, craning his head this way and that.

“What time is it? Where the hell’s your clock Cas?” 

Castiel refrains from answering, too busy as he is worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and staring at the ringing phone with wide eyes in terror as though  
waiting for Anna to suddenly emerge from the machine. 

“Cas,”

He couldn’t believe he had……

“Cas!” 

Had…….

“Castiel!” 

The sound of Dean’s voice draws his eyes from the phone that had finally fallen silent and he blinks; startled to find the other man fully dressed, if rumpled, and standing only a foot or so away. 

“It’ll be okay.” 

“How Dean? We-” he wants to do nothing but curl in on himself and go back to bed. He thinks about crying but figures that would do nothing to help cure the hangover that’s lurking behind his eyes.

The phone starts to ring again. 

“I have to go. I’ll call you later.” Dean said and Castiel nods. 

Dean hesitates a moment before leaning in and brushing a kiss across Castiel’s lips, exiting with a flutter of clothing and the soft click of the bedroom door closing and leaving behind the lingering scent of Calvin Klein’s Euphoria. 

Again the damn phone rings. 

Castiel sighed, wondering why he always had to complicate his life.  
…………………………………  
He isn’t surprise to find the bouquet of roses waiting for him on his desk when he enters his office the next morning. Surprise is too mild of a word. The red and white of the petals bleed together beautifully and Castiel snaps a photo them with a camera that he always kept on hand in his office before plucking the note from the bundle and stashing it away out of sight, placing the card on the ink blotter on his desk. He forgets about them altogether for most of the day, too busy as he is preparing the gallery for the upcoming exhibit. It isn’t until he enters his office and finds Gabriel sitting in his chair the roses on display on his desk that he gives them another thought. 

Scowling he strides across the room, snatching the card from Gabriel’s hand. 

“What the hell Cas?” 

I had an amazing time last night ~~~~P.S. I’m mostly sending these because I know you’ll blush and love the gesture you big sap. 

“What?” Castiel bristled. 

“I had an amazing time last night?” Gabriel quotes with a raised eyebrow and looking far too knowing for Castiel’s peace of mind. 

“So?”

“So who’s it from?” Castiel refrains from answering but that does nothing to hinder Gabriel who trudges on. “Because I remember you going off with Dean last night.  
And those can’t be from him, surely.”

Castiel shrugged. 

“I met someone.” 

“Really? Who? What did he look like? What’s his name?”

“…..Luke, he-”

“He doesn’t exist. Because I know you Cas, and you don’t do one night stands with strangers. Then again I could be wrong because before today I would’ve sworn you didn’t fuck your sister’s fiancé either.” 

“Gabriel-”

“What the fuck do you think your doing Cas?”

Castiel’s shoulders slumped and he sighed, running a hand down his face and wishing for a do-over. 

“It’s not as though I planned it Gabriel. It – it just happened.” 

“It’s that what you plan on telling Anna. It just happened.” 

“If you most know, I’m not planning on telling Anna anything.”

“Cas-”

“Can you just drop it Gabriel. Please.” 

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “For now, but don’t think this is the last time we’ll speak about this.” 

“Of course not,” Castiel muttered beneath his breath. “I wouldn’t be that lucky.”  
…………………………………………………………………………………………….  
It’s pouring down buckets of too warm rain when he exits the gallery, the air sticky with humanity and creating the feeling of being in a sauna. He flagged down a cab sooner than he would have expected to be able to and was a block away from his building when his cell-phone vibrated in his pocket. He’s not quite sure why he’s surprised to see Dean’s name displayed across the screen – but he is. 

“Hello Dean.” 

There’s a small hesitation before Dean responds. 

“Ah, hey Cas.” 

There’s a moment of silence with the noise of the evening traffic providing background noise and the sound of Dean’s breathing loud in his ear. He wants to say something, anything, thinks he should but isn’t really sure what it is he wants to say. So he says nothing. Soon the cab pulls to a stop in front of his building and Castiel exits the yellow car, passing a handful of bills to the driver, he’s in the elevator on his way to his floor when Dean finally speaks. 

“I ah, I need to see you again. Alone.” 

“Dean-”

“I know Cas, this is all kinds of fucked up, but – I need to see you. Please.” 

Castiel took a deep breath and he knocked his head gently against the metal wall of the elevator. 

“All right. When?”

“During the weekend of the fourth? Anna said you weren’t planning on going out to the San Juan Islands this year.” 

“No,”

“And I, coincidentally, have some work that needs to be done so I won’t be going. So I was thinking that maybe we could do something, spend sometime alone  
together, and try to figure out –what this is.” 

“I-”

There were so many reasons for him to say no – Anna being at the top of the list – but all his life Castiel had stood the side beneath Anna’s shadow even though he was younger. Maybe, just this once he could take something for himself. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“All right.” Dean paused and Castiel could imagine him with that stupid-happy grin on his face, the picture of it caused one to spread across Castiel’s own lips. “I’ll,  
ah, I’ll call you later this week.”

“Okay then,”

“Okay – bye Cas.”

“Bye Dean,”  
………………………………………………………………………………………….  
Olympic Sculpture Park is bustling with activity which is a good thing because they get swallowed in the swell of the crows and Castiel has only a minor heart attack when Dean takes his hand, pulling Castiel into his side. So far they’ve refrained from talking about anything serious regarding their, relationship as it is, and neither Anna nor the fast approaching wedding is talked about. Mostly Dean makes fun of the art while Castiel attempts, and fails, to engage Dean in understanding the concept behind the pieces. The sounds of the Bay can be heard over the voices of the crowd – the passing ferries, seagulls, and what not.

It’s when they wander into the Wake, Dean cradling Castiel’s hand in his own, and Castiel’s face warm and red for which he’ll blame the sun if asked but knows it’s because of Dean, when everything goes to hell in the 6 foot mountain high form of one Sam Winchester. 

Dean pulls away from him hurriedly, but Castiel can see it written across his face that he saw and the way his lips twist and his eyes narrow in which Dean would refer to as his ‘bitch face’ he’s not happy about it. 

“Hey Sam,” Dean spoke up first.

“Dean. Cas,” Sam said, nodding his head in acknowledgment of their presences. 

The two brothers have a mini stand off, both glaring at each other, and if Castiel didn’t know any better he’d think they were having some kind of silent  
telepathic conversation. It’s the sound of a clearing of a throat that pulls the boys from their stare off and draws Castiel’s attention to the small blonde at Sam’s side. 

“Ah, Sam,” 

“Oh Jess,” “This is my brother Dean and his- and Cas.” 

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both. Especially you Dean, Sam talks about you a lot.”

Dean grunts out something that could have been anything from a hello to a go-to-hell and Castiel elbows him in the side for it, receiving a glare from Dean in return. 

“I-” Castiel started only to snap his mouth shut when Sam cuts him a look that would kill him over if such things were possible. 

“Sam,” 

“Can I talk to you for a moment Dean?”

Castiel and Jess watched the brothers walk off to the side Dean’s eyes swinging wildly as they argued. 

“What the fuck Dean-” Is the only words that reach them as they become devoured by the flowing crowd. 

“So, how long have you and Sam been dating.” 

“Oh, ah, six months tomorrow.” 

“That’s-” But Castiel doesn’t get a chance to finish because as quick as they left, Dean has returned, nothing even sparring Jess a glance as he catches Castiel wrist and tugs him along, storming a path through the crowd. 

“So-” Castiel said once they’re in the car with Dean behind the wheel and presumably heading to Castiel’s place. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“But-”

“Cas,” Dean said between clenched teeth. “Please.” 

“Okay. We won’t talk about it.” 

Castiel thinks it’s just one more item on the growing list of things they don’t talk about. 

……………………………………………………………………………………….

It’s not that he’d had any delusions of him and Dean wandering off into the sunset together, but after the roses and the day spent at Olympic Sculpture Park he had been expecting something to happen. Apparently his expectations were too high. 

He did see Dean the following weekend however – at the weekly brunch with the family. It wasn’t as awkward as he had expected, if your definition of awkward was anything other than the one listed in Webster that is – made all the more so by the presences of Balthazar, whom Anna had apparently ran into and had been thoughtful enough to invite. 

With Castiel worrying that everyone knew what he had Dean had done and him glaring at Dean who in turn was glaring at Balthazar the brunch hung around the levels of nightmarish and oh-god-kill-me-now. That’s how he came to be nearly drunk of his ass and butchering Jessie J in the middle of the Library with Gabriel insanely singing (and off key mind you) who’s laughing now. Because Gabriel was always there to chase away his nightmares with a stiff drink that had the simultaneous affect of drowning his sorrows. 

“He’s not good enough for you anyway.” Gabriel said, tequila swishing over the side of his shot glass as he motions in a wide arch with his arm. 

Castiel grunted. “You say that about everyone.” 

“Yeah,” Gabriel said with a shrug. “I’m just waiting for you to come to your senses and realize I’m the best person for you.”

“Gabriel,” Castiel started with a chuckle.

“Is the thought that ridiculous to you?”

The slight hurt to his tone is surprising and makes Castiel take a second look and – he’s not joking. Serious isn’t a look that graces Gabriel’s face often but Castiel’s been friends with him long enough to know it when he sees’s it. 

“Wha- you’re serious?” 

Gabriel shrugged, looking up at him beneath his lashes sheepishly as he twirled the shot glass on the bar with a single finger. 

“Maybe.”

Castiel blinked, fairly sure that the numbing sensation in his chest meant he was in shock a little. “You never – why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I’m not the idiot Winchester apparently is. I could see how in love with him you are – and don’t try to deny it Castiel.”

While his feeling for Dean wasn’t something he could hide from – something he had learned a month after meeting Dean – he hadn’t thought it was obvious to anyone else. 

“I – I wasn’t going to.” 

Gabriel snorted, throwing back the shot. 

“You could have still told me.” Castiel said

“And have you shot me down? No thanks,”

“You don’t know,” Castiel began but Gabriel didn’t allow him to continue. 

“Yes I do, and you do to. Besides, even if I had asked you out and you said yes, I’d whether not be with someone who’s in love with someone else.” 

“I – Gabriel,” 

“Shut up Cas, I didn’t tell you so you could do the pouty- guilt thing. I just – I don’t know why I told you. Too much tequila I guess.” 

Castiel could feel Gabriel jerk with surprise as he threw his arms around him in a sloppy mess of a hug that served to put Gabriel’s peach scented hair in his face. 

“I do love you,” 

“Yeah, but like a puppy.” Gabriel said but with no really bitterness or anger. 

“Well, you do make a cute puppy.”

“Damn right I do.” 

Castiel laughed, still clinging to Gabriel. 

“You can let me go you know, I’m not going to leave you, mostly because you’d be lost without me.” 

“True.” 

“I cannot tell a lie.”

“Please.” Castiel snorted.

Castiel untangled himself from around Gabriel, righting himself on the bar stool and signaling the bartender for another round of shots. 

“You know if I could love you my life would be far less complicated.” 

“You’re a drama whore.” 

“Screw you.” 

“You wish.”  
………………………………………………………………………………………………

The whole waking up to a ringing phone thing is so overrated, when compounded with pounding at the front door it equated with the first level of hell. 

“Would you please answer one of those?” a voice by his left shoulder said gruffly. Castiel turned on his side to find Gabriel lying there, or what he was pretty sure was Gabriel, the pillow over his face was making it hard to get a positive I.D. 

“Why the hell are you in my bed?”

“Am I naked?” Gabriel asked, at least Castiel was pretty sure that was what he said – he couldn’t be sure what with the pillow still over his head. 

“No.” thankfully – Castiel thought

“Then I probably passed out trying to get your drunken ass to bed.”

“I-” 

The ringing, which had stopped, began once again, as did the pounding on the door. 

“Cas! Castiel!” The roar of his name being called some how reached over his ears over the sound of the knocking and ringing of the phone. He’s hurrying from his  
bed, stumbling to his knees when his feet become tangled in the sheets, wanting to stop the shouting before one of his neighbors call the police. He’s half-way to the door when it registers that the voice belongs to Dean.

He jerks the door open, moving his head to the side in time to keep from getting hit in the face as Dean’s fisted hand was on a descent to continue knocking. Dean looks startled for a swift moment to find him standing there, his jeans and t-shirt rumpled and his leather jacket thrown over his arm. 

“Hey,”

Castiel didn’t allow him to say anything more, gritting his teeth and barely refraining from hitting Dean. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I-”

“Do you want to be arrested, is that it?”

“I-” 

“I mean-”

“Cas-”

“What the hell are you doing here Dean?”

“I-” and Castiel had every intention of letting him finish this time only Dean didn’t say anything else. His mouth pinched shut and his eyes darkened, when he heard  
the patter of bare feet on the hardwood floors he knew why. 

“Coffee?” Gabriel implored, rubbing slowly at his closed eyes. He froze when he opened them and Castiel watched his gaze swing between him and Dean before he turned and went into the bedroom, returning a moment later with his shoes in his hands. “There’s a Starbucks on the corner. You want anything?”

“Um no,” 

Gabriel nodded, slipping pass them and out the door pausing to glare at Dean. 

“You hurt him and I’ll kick your ass.” 

Dean watched Gabriel’s retreating form until it disappeared behind the shiny metal doors of the elevator, before turning his dark gaze to Castiel. 

“What the hell was he doing here?”

“Sleeping, like a normal person does at this time of day.” 

“It’s noon!” 

Castiel glanced to the wall clock handing on the wall next to the door. 

Huh, 

“Come in.” 

Dean did, slamming the door a little harshly behind him. 

“Why was he here?’ Dean demanded again, throwing his jacket over a bench seat positioned in the entry way. 

“I’m not sure that’s any of your business?” Castiel responded, moving into the kitchen with Dean at his heels to start a kettle of water. He’d prefer a cup of coffee but  
he was out, his cupboards depressingly empty – he should probably go shopping soon. 

“Wha-” Dean sputtered, “Not my-”

“No it’s not, especially when I haven’t heard anything from you for a week.”

“I-”

“And besides your engaged,” Castiel ranted as he pulled two cups out of the cupboard, placing two Awake Tazo tea bags in them. “So you don’t get to be-”

“I’m not,” 

“You obviously are, if looks could kill Gabriel would be dead.” 

“Would serve him right, poaching what doesn’t belong to him.” 

“I don’t belong to you either!” Castiel yelled, splashing water into the cups, banging around in the fridge for the half-and-half. “You’re engaged,”

“No. I. Am. Not.” 

Castiel paused, the milk still tilted so that milk continued to pour from the carton and overflowing in the cup and running over the sides to pool in a white and black mess on the counter-top. He blinked, and then blinked again.

“You’re not what?”

Castiel asked, because it couldn’t be what he was thinking. 

“Not engaged. Not anymore.” 

Expect it apparently was. 

“What, I – you -”

“Cas,”

“How-”

“Are you actually going to finish a sentence?”

“Why?”

“Are you telling me you honestly don’t know?” 

“But-”

“I love you, how the hell could I marry her when you’re all I can think about?”

“You love me?”

Dean smiled, all soft and wide – his eyes filled with a warmth that Castiel hadn’t ever seen directed at him – and stepped into Castiel’s space, taking the now forgotten carton of milk from Castiel and sitting it on the counter so that he could take Castiel’s hands into his own. 

“You saying you didn’t know.” 

“I had hope,” 

Dean tilted his head, leaning forward so that his lips brushed teasingly over Castiel’s. 

“Have anything you want to say to me?”

Castiel smiled. 

“You know I-” Castiel paused. “Oh no, oh my god no.” 

“Well,” Dean said, a little stunned as Castiel pulled away. “Can’t say that was the reaction I was expecting.” 

“Anna. Oh god-” 

“Cas,”

“You – you broke off the engagement. Anna’s going to be crushed.” 

“Cas,” 

“I’m a horrible, horrible person. How could I have – am nothing more than a slut. A no good home-wrecker.” 

Dean laughed, grabbing Castiel arms and pulling him close. 

“I have no idea what you’re finding so damn funny-”

“We both agreed that getting married wasn’t the best thing.” 

Castiel looked at him suspiciously. He didn’t believe that Dean would lie to him about something so important. He also knew Anna and couldn’t believe that Anna would ever be okay with getting dumped. 

“You’re sure. She was okay when you left her?”

“Yeah Cas. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I know.” Castiel muttered, allowing Dean to pull him into a hug. 

“Me an Anna,” Dean said after a moment. “we were never right.” 

“Why?” 

Dean pulled back, allowing a few scant inches between their bodies. He nudged Castiel’s chin until he had no choice but to look at Dean. 

“You know why.”  
……………………………………………………………………………………………..

It’s not all fluffy bunnies and red hearts after that but Castiel likes to think they’re on their way to a happy ending – all of them. Though there are a few painful-nightmarish-awkward moments, like when Anna showed up unannounced to rant about Dean breaking it off only to find Dean in his apartment. His mom isn’t really speaking to him but she keeps sending wedding magazines with little notes attached like – we do live in Seattle honey- and his father is disappointed in him but not so much so that he doesn’t take Castiel’s calls and he agreed to go to a Seahawks game with Dean. 

Anna was pregnant and mostly ignoring Castiel and Dean, she had been in agreement to end the engagement but Castiel knew the fact that Dean did it first left her with a sour taste and him doing so that he could be with her baby brother didn’t lend itself to warm fuzzy feelings. 

Gabriel had moved to Britain and met a girl named Kali. Castiel was happy for him – the thought that he might have unwilling and unknowingly hurt Gabriel made Castiel’s hurt clenched. He had been on the receiving end of that – not that he blamed Dean. 

As for him, we wasn’t feeling as guilty about breaking Dean and Anna up in light of the fact that Anna was pregnant – with Balthazar’s baby. He had finally taken something for himself – and he was never ever giving him back.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure it turned out like what I had in mind when I started it but hopefully it was enjoyable. once again I apologize for any errors.


End file.
